Echoes From The Past
by Arigol
Summary: A copkilling brings back painful memories for Starsky. This story was written for the Hutch Hurls challenge on the Me and Thee list.


**Echoes From the Past**

Captain Dobey studied the two young men who had rapidly become his best team. Starsky had been the bane of his life ever since transferring to Metro almost two years ago; first as a uniform cop and then when he made detective. Hutchinson had joined them nine months ago to become Starsky's partner and Dobey had sighed with relief for the blond was smart, contained and cautious, the perfect balance for Starsky's more hot-headed approach.

Although polar opposites they had connected so well that at times, it brought a lump to his throat as he remembered another set of partners who had worked together as seamlessly as these two did. Elmo had been his closest friend, as well as partner, although quiet and reserved compared with his own more outgoing nature.

Although Dobey's personality had never come anywhere close to the gregarious, fun loving, macho but often child-like Starsky, he did relate to the younger man, which oddly, showed in the constant bickering between them. It wasn't that Starsky didn't show him respect, but he would do the silliest things to get a rise out of him like kicking the door shut with his foot, or putting his feet on the desk. Starsky had lived through childhood tragedy and war and still maintained his positive outlook on life. Dobey admired him for that and for his loyalty to his partner.

Hutchinson was more like Elmo in nature but he had a side to him that Dobey found interesting. Son of a wealthy family who had trained him to be a cool thinker and an over-achiever, yet Hutch often showed sympathy for people in trouble that manifested itself in acts of kindness that many cops would steer well clear off. He cared about people. Most of all, though, he cared about Starsky. The way he had looked after him when the dark-haired detective had been shot last year had been an exemplary lesson to others in the precinct, although the inevitable rumors had surfaced.

Dobey was fascinated by their interaction. It was as if they had verbal shorthand going and an almost telepathic connection. Also it was so physical at times, which for men was unusual. He suspected that to be Starsky's influence for the curly-haired member of the team had an easy charm and relaxed, natural manner. As for Hutch, according to his previous captain, the blond had always been friendly but cool with his colleagues. With Starsky he was different: warm, affectionate and open.

The two young cops fought occasionally. Dobey had witnessed some fierce rows but they normally blew over fast and soon both were joking around again. He wondered how they had become so close. On paper it seemed like an impossible combination. Different in background, religion, looks, and temperament yet somehow it worked. He had a theory that seemed plausible to him and that was deep down there were many similarities between them. The two of them were loners, mavericks and idealists, truly believing that they were in the police force to help the community. From the Academy onwards they had both been forced to overcome pre-conceived ideas and prejudice not the least regarding their striking good looks. They had found a kindred spirit in one another and together were an example of interracial harmony, which the BCPD was keen to support.

Dobey sighed, remembering his own battle against bigotry. It continued to this day but one consolation was that he was now in a position to take an active stand against it. He wished more of his officers were like these two young men. He supported them all the way but some people didn't like their methods, their casual clothes, and their attitude. However they got results and even their detractors admitted that was the most important thing. Their beat was one of the worst in the city and they had adapted themselves for it. The police force was changing and these two were an example of that new breed of cop.

"Starsky, take your feet off my desk," he barked, playing their usual game.

Starsky's eyes widened but he obeyed, saying, "Sorry, Captain."

Dobey snorted. _Yeah sure_, he said to himself on seeing the slight smile on Starsky's face. _He's as bad as one of my kids!_

"Didn't I tell you a million times to get your hair cut?" he glared at the curly mop that reached Starsky's collar.

"Yessir, I did," Starsky protested, before glancing at Hutchinson for support.

Hutch cleared his throat. "Um, he did, Captain. I was there."

"He was," Starsky agreed, his expression serious.

"Well it doesn't look like it to me. Go back and get it trimmed again. You look like some kind of hippie, instead of a police officer."

Starsky glanced at the floor and then up again at him through lowered lashes and puppy dog eyes. "But Captain, I got it cut once," he defended himself. "Any more and it'll be as short as it was in the army."

Dobey had to stop himself from smiling. Starsky was as bad as Cal, or his baby, Rosie was. Sometimes, Dobey thought that he had never grown up. Hutch was looking amusedly on, perfectly aware of what his partner was doing. Dobey glared at him and the blond shrugged as if to say it was nothing to do with him.

Dobey shook his head, knowing it was a lost cause.

"Hey, Captain," Starsky jumped in as if realising he had won that round, "Hutch is being a real pain in the ass about the police barbecue. I've been tryin' to persuade him to bring his guitar and sing but he keeps refusing. How about you ordering him, huh?"

"Starsky!" Hutch warned.

"Aw, Hutch, it'll be our first Metro barbecue as partners. Been on duty last coupla years so couldn't go but heard it was great. You gotta do it. You got a terrific voice! "

"The Metro brass band'll be playing," Hutch protested. "They don't need me there."

"Aw, c'mon, Hutch, we need some modern music there. Some James Taylor or Jim Croce." Starsky looked at Dobey for support. "Tell him, Captain. He's a real good singer and he writes songs too."

Dobey shook his head. "I can't force him to sing, if he doesn't want to, Starsky. However, Hutch, some modern music would go down well."

"See!" Starsky said in triumph.

"I'll think about it, Captain," Hutch said, a slight flush on his face.

"Please. You gotta do it, Hutch." Starsky now resorted to shameless pleading. "You gotta!"

Hutch sighed, and it was obvious that he was forcing himself to be strong or else he would be overwhelmed by his partner's enthusiastic and downright manipulative behaviour. "Will you leave me alone?"

The sudden ringing of the phone disturbed them and Dobey lifted the receiver. The news he was given chilled him. For a few moments he couldn't respond then forcing himself replied, "I'm on my way." He steeled himself before relaying the information to his favorite team. "Officer John Miller was gunned down on Chalmers Street. C'mon you two are with me."

ooo

Hutch surveyed the crime scene with grim efficiency. "It looks like a classic gangland execution. Both witnesses saw a dark sedan with blacked out windows cruise along the street then, a barrage of shots were fired from the car. He had no chance." Hutch looked at his captain. "What was he working on? Could he have done something to upset the mob?"

"Not as far as I know but maybe his partner can help. You and Starsky go and inform him about Miller's death." Dobey said. "I need to tell his wife. I want a report on my desk as soon as possible."

Hutch glanced at the scattered detritusfrom Miller's shopping expedition, a bouquet of broken flowers, a box of chocolates, a poignant reminder of why the man had been out. No doubt his killers had been watching him and had chosen their moment. "All right, Captain." He glanced at his pale and uneasy partner and once Dobey had left, moved closer to him. "You okay, buddy? Did you know Miller?"

Starsky nodded but didn't speak. Since their arrival he had grown increasingly tense and moody. Hutch chewed at his lip. It was always shocking when a police officer was killed but one of the first rules of survival was to remain detached or else it was impossible to deal with the investigation. He turned his attention to his notes then to the crime scene, then to his partner seeing how Starsky's body language now screamed anger and pain.

"Starsk, are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"He has a wife and two kids." Starsky's voice was raw with emotion.

"Yeah, I know," Hutch said, his tone soft and sympathetic. He touched his partner's shoulder, trying to soothe his obvious tension. "C'mon. Let's get started."

To his surprise Starsky stiffened, flinched from the touch and strode away. Worried now, Hutch hurried after him. "Buddy?" he murmured.

"Yeah." Starsky turned to him with haunted eyes.

"What is it? Let me help you," Hutch said, seriously concerned now about Starsky. He was floundering because he realised that more than Miller's death bothered his friend. What it was he didn't know.

Starsky opened the Torino's door. "We need to see his partner. Come on."

Damping down the disappointment caused by Starsky not confiding in him and hoping he would be more forthcoming later, Hutch nodded then slid into the passenger seat.

ooo

They sat on the couch in Howard Bryant's apartment. The man had taken his partner's death hard and sat with hunched shoulders, and hands clasped loosely together. He stared at the ground, obviously devastated, and Starsky empathised with him. He knew how **he** would feel if Hutch…. He stopped the thought in its tracks.

"We're real sorry, Howie," Starsky said.

Bryant nodded. "We were partners for almost two years. John's…he was a great guy. Jesus, why'd this have to happen to him?"

"Howie, we gotta know if John stepped on any toes, pissed off anyone." Starsky prompted in a soft tone. "It looks like a mob hit to us. Did he have any dealings with them?"

Bryant swore and clenched his fists.

"Do you know anything?" Starsky persisted.

Bryant looked up at him. "You think they put a contract out on him?"

"It's possible."

Bryant rubbed at his short brown hair. "It wasn't any cases we worked on." He fidgeted and looked anywhere but at Starsky or Hutch.

"Howie, you can trust us, you know that don't ya?" Starsky said, sensing that Bryant knew something.

"Susie's got enough to deal with over John's death. This would push her over the edge, I know it."

Starsky shuddered and instinctively Hutch moved a little nearer him. Their eyes met. Hutch was confused and maybe a little upset over his behaviour but right now Starsky couldn't discuss the reason he was churning inside with anyone. Despite this and as often happened between them, a message was exchanged, and Hutch took over the questioning.

"Howard, you can be assured it won't reach her," he said.

"Yeah." Bryant finally looked at them." I know about you guys. Everyone talks about you and… but no-one doubts your integrity."

Hutch smiled a little. "Yeah, we know about the rumors. I think it's jealousy 'cos we're so tight. You and John were friends weren't you?"

Bryant hesitated a long moment before speaking. "John was a great guy, loved his wife and kids, but he liked to play away. He was my buddy but I was always telling him he was crazy. He had a beautiful family. Why risk it all for some cheap thrills?"

"Who was he seeing, Howard?"

The man swallowed hard then replied, "A woman called Carla Monte."

Starsky froze. He didn't know her, but the chances of her being related to Vic Monte were high. He exchanged another look with Hutch that told him that his partner realised the enormity of this as well. They were dealing with a mob boss here and his deeply ingrained codes of conduct.

"I tried to tell him not to mess with Vic Monte's sister but he wouldn't listen. Said it was their choice. Now he's paid for it with his life." Bryant lowered his head into his hands. "Oh god, why didn't he listen to me!"

Drawing on his knowledge of the Mafia, Starsky knew that Monte's sister would be expected to date within approved Families. Her brother would consider her seeing a cop as the ultimate betrayal. Starsky pushed his own pain from the past aside as he tried to deal with Howard's. "When did he last see her?"

"Two days ago I think. He was nuts. He was going to lie to his wife, tell her he had to go out of town on an assignment and instead was planning on going away for the weekend with Carla."

"Did you ever meet her," Hutch asked.

"No, I don't even know where she lives."

"I bet she's in the family compound," Starsky said. "If she wasn't before she is now and no way of getting to her."

"The killer won't be caught will he?" Bryant asked.

Starsky sighed. "We'll do our best but it ain't easy to pin anything on Vic Monte or any of the other mob bosses"

"I know," Bryant murmured. He looked up at them. "How did they get so much control here?"

Starsky grimaced, knowing exactly how the other man felt. It was something he had been aware of for many years. "They were here long before we were born. Generations of cops and Feds have struggled to bring 'em down."

"We got to keep fighting the fight," Hutch interjected. "One day we'll get them."

"Yeah, but in our lifetime?" Bryant's bitterness was only too clear.

There was no way to answer that and after saying their goodbyes they left Bryant sitting there, broken hearted over his partner's death.

As he drove back to the precinct, Starsky steeled himself for the inevitable questions but Hutch only sat in silence, sometimes glancing at him but mostly staring out of the window. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his partner giving him some space. He needed to sort this through on his own yet a nagging guilty little thought persisted that told him he should confide in Hutch. His partner was his rock; always there for him but the hurt was so deep and so old that he couldn't open up. Not yet.

Starsky gritted his teeth and withdrew into himself. It was the only way he knew of to protect himself from the pain that threatened to erupt again after all these years.

ooo

Starsky hated funerals but he and Hutch attended John Miller's out of respect for the murdered officer. As he sat in the church, Starsky successfully tuned out the service, and the speeches. It was only outside when he saw the widow and her two ashen faced children standing by the grave that his heart twisted in his chest and all the emotions he experienced that day of his father's funeral resurfaced. Gut wrenching pain sliced through him with such ferocity that the blood drained from his face and he almost keeled over, but Hutch's strong grip on his elbow anchored him and he was able to remain on his feet.

The Miller boys stood on either side of their weeping mother, clutching at her hands. One appeared around eleven, the other a few years younger. It seemed like echoes from the past as he studied their drawn faces and in his mind's eye saw himself and Nicky in their place.

He tried to push the memories back into his subconscious but they refused to go and played themselves out in graphic detail.

_He had been strong for Ma and for his little brother but inside he had been falling apart. The week of mourning had been a nightmare with well meaning relatives congregating in the apartment trying their best to cheer them with prayers, talk and food. Their Rabbi had been a tower of strength to Ma but Starsky had not responded to the man's kindness and support for he was angry with a god that had taken his dad from them. The Rabbi had seemed to understand and had backed off. _

_A visit from Joe Durniak, his father's old friend, had chilled him. "Aaron's killer won't go unpunished, Davey," Durniak had promised. _

_Even at twelve, Starsky had recognised the meaning behind those words. Joe Durniak was a powerful Mafia boss who, despite Aaron being a cop, had a great affection for the Starskys. A part of young Davey relished Durniak's vow but another part knew that his dad would not have approved._

"_I'll look after you, and Nicky and your Ma. I promise you," Durniak had further pledged._

"_We don't need you," Starsky had retaliated, for he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea for a cop's family to have connections to such a powerful mob boss._

_Durniak had nodded, smiled and left him but Starsky had seen him press a wad of bills into Ma's hands, saying, "For any expenses, Rachel. It's a gift, in Aaron's memory_."

Sensing Hutch's disquiet at his introspection, Starsky pulled himself together and stood, military straight as the funeral ceremony came to its conclusion.

ooo

After a further week of futile investigation, Hutch was ready to explode at his sullen partner. He had tried everything, nothing worked, and now his patience was running out. Starsky was hurting and he didn't know why. Whenever he broached the subject, he would get the silent treatment and be completely shut out. Used to their almost psychic connection this pained him more than he could say and he hated every minute of it. He tried to rationalize it, knowing Starsky was not angry with **him**, but that did not make it any less difficult to cope with.

When Starsky dropped him at the cottage, after their shift, he made another attempt this time trying to coax him. "Hey, why don't you come on in. I'll cook dinner. We'll have some beers and watch tv. How about it Starsk?"

"No, I'm goin' home. I'll pick you up at 7.30 tomorrow morning."

"Starsk, why won't you talk to me?" he tried to reason.

"Get offa my case, Hutchinson," Starsky snapped. "Now get outta the car and leave me alone."

"I'm trying to help!"

"I don't want your freakin' help. Don't need it. Just leave me alone." Starsky's eyes blazed in fury.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Starsky?"

"Get lost, Hutchinson. You got it? Kapish?"

"Yeah I get it. Okay, if that's the way you want it, fine," Hutch retaliated, and leaving the car he slammed the door behind him.

After yelling a string of profanities at him, Starsky drove away at speed.

Hutch stormed into his house and flopped down onto the couch. What was happening to them? Why had they been at odds? The obvious answer was the case but why and what else was upsetting Starsky? There was also the question of why his partner was refusing to talk about it. It hurt him for he thought their friendship so solid that they could discuss anything.

Then it hit him. How dense could he be? _I'm an idiot! _he berated himself, as he recalled Miller's two heartbroken children at their father's grave.

Starsky's dad, a street cop, had been gunned down in New York when his son had been about twelve years old. Hutch knew very few details, because Starsky had only mentioned it once but, due to the shooting, the painful memory had to have resurfaced. No wonder Starsky had been so strained at the Miller funeral, at one point swaying on his feet as if ready to fall.

_What kind of friend am I _? he questioned himself.

Without a moment's hesitation, and soundly beating himself up for his stupidity, Hutch left the cottage. He was determined to get through to Starsky if it was the last thing he did.

Twenty- five minutes later he was banging on his partner's door.

"Leave me alone," Starsky's yell reached him.

Hutch took a deep breath, fished out his keys and let himself into the apartment. He stopped on seeing Starsky huddled on the couch. "Aw buddy," he murmured, his natural affinity with his friend playing havoc with his emotions. He knew though that he needed to be strong for Starsky and that is what he would be.

He approached cautiously. "I only want to help you, pal." Starsky's back was to him, his face pressed into a cushion and he was shaking like a leaf. Hutch wondered what to do. If Starsky wouldn't allow him in then there was no way he could help. "Starsk, I know this has got to do with your dad. I'm sorry I've been so insensitive. I should have realised earlier."

His partner became very still. Hutch chewed at his lip wondering if he had just made things worse by mentioning Starsky's father. He was at a loss for he had no experience of dealing with the grief and despair of someone he cared so much about. With a groan that reflected his own pain and uncertainty, he slumped down onto a nearby chair. He watched Starsky's tense body and vacillated between reaching out to help or just leaving him alone. Unable to make a decision, he leaned his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

An image sprung into his mind of the time when he had crumbled over his agony due to the appalling behaviour of his parents and his own inaction over it, that was further compounded by Starsky taking a bullet for him. Hutch had wept for the first time in many years and Starsky had been there for him, comforting and strengthening him with a hug that had eased Hutch's soul. For someone as starved as he had been for a physical contact that he had never really known before, it had been a memorable event. He opened his eyes and looked at his partner. What did Starsky need? He was the strongest, most compassionate man Hutch had ever met but under these circumstances would he allow himself to lean on another?

Starsky shifted over onto his back showing a photo clutched in his hands. Hutch clenched his fists and remained silent, hoping that his friend would speak to him and in the process maybe release some of his pain.

They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity until Hutch, unable to bear it any longer said, "It's only me and thee here, buddy. You're safe with me. You know that don't you?"

Starsky turned his head to the side and looked at him. His cobalt eyes shimmered with tears and his lower lip trembled. "The two crimes are almost identical. My dad was only thirty-six, same age as Miller. It was my parents' anniversary. He had gone to buy Ma flowers and they shot him down in the street near our apartment. I was outside with some buddies when I head the commotion. I ran towards the noise and saw a cop on the ground, broken roses scattered around him. Seconds later I realised it was my dad." Starsky swallowed hard but he continued in a low voice, "I fell down beside him, shook him, begged him to wake up and talk to me but it was too late. He had been hit at close range. Had no chance."

The scene his friend had painted was so vivid that Hutch's throat tightened until he could barely swallow. No wonder Starsky had been so shaken by Miller's death. Hutch wanted to help him but didn't know what, in his fragile emotional state, Starsky would permit.

"I understand why this is upsetting you so much, buddy. Maybe we should ask Dobey to take us off the case," Hutch suggested, glad at least that Starsky talking about it.

"I really wanna find the bastards who did this."

"Monte's organisation is powerful, Starsk. We won't get close. You know that don't you?"

Starsky looked down at the picture in his hands then held it out. Hutch accepted it with extreme care for it was obviously a precious memento. He studied the uniformed man in the photo, fascinated to see the resemblance between father and son. There was the same dark curly hair and blue eyes although his partner had a more powerful build.

"What was his name?" he asked.

"Aaron Joseph Starsky."

"You're not named after him?"

Starsky shook his head a little. "Jewish custom names a child after a relative who's passed away. It's meant to keep their name and memory alive. I was named for my grandpa."

"My dad's middle name is Kenneth so I got stuck with it." Hutch grimaced. "Always hated it. All those biblical names in your family are great."

"You think so?" Starsky shut his eyes tight.

"Yeah." Hutch looked at the photo again. "You look like him. He must've been a great guy."

There was a loud sniff then a choked sob. "He was, Hutch. He was."

Letting his instincts guide him, Hutch slid out of the chair and knelt beside Starsky. He squeezed his friend's tense shoulders. "You told me once that we were each other's support system. I'm here for you, buddy. I'll always be here for you."

Tears spilled from Starsky's eyes and, pulling him up into a sitting position, Hutch drew him into a tight embrace. He rubbed his back and waited for the storm to pass. Oddly relaxed now, he was pleased to be able to comfort his partner. He choked back his own tears as the feelings emanating from the other man threatened to overwhelm him. "Let it out, buddy. That's right," he soothed. "I've got you. It's goin' to be all right."

After a while Starsky grew quiet but he remained where he was as if soaking up Hutch's strength. Those minutes of silence enabled Hutch to control his own emotion, essential if he was to continue to help his friend.

"How you doing, Starsk?" Hutch asked, patting the other's neck. "Are you all right?"

"Sorry," Starsky murmured into his shoulder. "Didn't mean to fall apart."

"Hey, it's okay. You soaked me but it's okay." Hutch tried to lighten things. "I don't mind."

Starsky sat back, wiped his face and blinked back remaining tears. "Thanks Hutch. Everything got too much for me." Starsky's expression was contrite. "I didn't mean to yell at you before."

"Hey, I know that." Hutch smiled, a little embarrassed, and patted his shoulder, warmed by his friend's regard. "You going to be okay?"

Starsky nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hutch studied him for a moment, seeing the weariness in the set of Starsky's shoulders and the expression in his eyes. "You don't need to deal with this on your own. You know that don't you?"

"I know," Starsky replied, lowering his eyes.

Hutch hesitated before returning to his chair, picking up the discarded photo and handing it back. The release of emotion had only partly helped Starsky. It was obvious that he was still very down. "Did they ever get the killers?"

Starsky traced the image in the picture with his thumb. "The cops never did."

Something remained unsaid. There were things in his partner's past that he knew little or nothing about and until Starsky was willing to tell him there was nothing he could do. Well, that was not entirely true. He could do a background trace on him but that would smack of betrayal.

He suddenly remembered Starsky's earlier remark about the two crimes being almost identical. "It was a mob hit?"

Starsky nodded.

"Shit!" Hutch exclaimed.

Starsky remained silent, and Hutch knew that he would get no more details out of him. One day, perhaps, his friend would confide in him fully but until that time he would wait and support him in any way possible.

"You hungry? Why don't I cook dinner." Hutch knew that food was the best way to cheer Starsky up.

Starsky shrugged, leaned back against the couch, released a deep sigh and closed his eyes.

Hutch stared at him in shock. If food wasn't doing the trick then what would? He had never seen his partner so depressed. "Buddy, are you okay?"

Starsky slid down to lie on the couch again. "I'm tired. Wanna sleep."

"You got to eat. You've had nothing all day. That's not like you, Starsk."

"Not hungry."

"You're never 'not hungry', Starsk."

In the ensuing silence, Hutch began to seriously worry. "I'll make us some pasta. Maybe you'll feel like eating that." On getting no reply, Hutch went into the kitchen, got the ingredients together and prepared one of Starsky's favorite meals. If that didn't cheer him up then nothing would.

"Okay, buddy, dinner's ready. Come on." He went to the couch, leaned over and touched his friend's shoulder.

"Ain't hungry." Starsky knuckled his eyes, blinked a few times then stared up at him. Hutch melted as he saw an unhappy little boy looking at him instead of his tough, confident partner.

He opened his mouth and words he hadn't intended came out. "Afterwards how about I test some songs to sing at the barbecue?" Hutch gulped. _Did I really say that_?

Starsky gazed at him incredulously then sat up and suddenly grinned. It wasn't the 1000-watt variety but it was there and it was real and Hutch was delighted to see it. "You're gonna sing at the barbecue?" Starsky asked, a hitch in his voice.

Hutch was about to deny he had ever spoken but the words froze in his throat. If it meant this much to Starsky then he would sing and to hell with stage fright. "Yeah," he said, "but you got to eat first and then you can tell me which songs you think are the best."

Starsky's eyes sparkled with something other than tears this time. "Okay. Let's eat."

Hutch laughed, grabbed the hand that Starsky held out, yanked him to his feet and gave him a brief hug. The pain of his father's death would never leave Starsky but now that he had spoken about it perhaps for the first time, it would ease a little.

ooo

It was two weeks since the shooting and Starsky knew, as did the Police Department that at present they would never get Miller's assassin. Vic Monte was too powerful a crime lord and was protected by people in positions of authority; judges, cops, lawyers, politicians. Starsky was aware that Hutch found it odd that he had accepted the situation so easily but it was only too familiar to someone who had spent his childhood in an area ruled by the Mafia. Starsky senior had been caught up in a feud that had split the local Families apart. His brother cops had not arrested Aaron Starsky's killer, but his old school buddy Joe Durniak's part in forcing the rival Family to give him up had ensured that justice, or was it vengeance, had been done.

One day, Starsky promised himself they would bring Vic Monte down. It might take years but he and Hutch would keep chipping away until they had the bastard cold. He would do it for John Miller's grieving widow and fatherless children, his parents, friends and partner.

Pushing the whole miserable business out of his mind, he parked the Torino outside Hutch's cottage and bounded along the pathway to the front door. It was a beautiful day. Perfect for a barbecue. There would be lots of food, some good-looking girls, he hoped, and Hutch was singing!

"Open up," he called, banging on the door. When there was no reply, he used his key to let himself in and looked around. The sound of retching alerted him as to where his partner was and with a worried tskk, he pushed his way into the bathroom. "Hey Hutch, what's wrong?"

Hutch was hunched over the toilet heaving up what seemed like everything in his stomach. Starsky squeezed his shoulder, and then grabbing a towel he soaked it and pressed it against Hutch's sweaty forehead.

"You ill, buddy?" Starsky asked, worried over his partner's pallor.

In answer, Hutch retched some more but there seemed nothing left to bring up.

Starsky helped the weakened man to his feet, supported him against the wall, then with one hand filled a glass with water and handed it to him. "Hey drink some of this."

Hutch obeyed, closing his eyes in obvious relief when it stayed down. "Starsk," he croaked.

"Are you gonna hurl any more?" Starsky asked, studying him closely.

Hutch was pale but he seemed to be breathing a bit easier now as he shook his head and wiped at his mouth. "Think it's over. Jeez, that was horrible."

"I'm gonna make you some of that wierd tea you like," Starsky said, "C'mon let's get you sittin' down." He guided Hutch out of the bathroom and settled him on the couch. "Stay there and don't move. I'll be right back."

As Starsky prepared the tea, he couldn't help but worry about the big lug. Hutch wasn't admitting it but Starsky suspected, in fact was just about convinced that stage fright or nerves over the imminent performance at the barbecue was the reason for this sudden sickness. Feeling guilty now as he remembered Hutch's initial reluctance to sing Starsky was ready to stay here and mother hen his friend until he was better.

Hutch was special in so many ways. He had put up with moodiness, anger, and being shut out yet had been supportive when Starsky had needed his strength. What other friend would have done that for him? _None_, he answered his own question.

He brought a mug of the steaming liquid out determined now to tell Hutch they weren't going. Starsky handed him the tea and sat beside him, pleased to see that his color had improved.

"I'm okay now," Hutch said, as he sipped the warm drink.

"Somethin' you ate?" Starsky asked. "Or are ya ill? Hey we won't go to the barbecue if you're ill."

Hutch looked at him then sniffed and looked down, but not before Starsky had seen his unease_. Now what's wrong?_ Starsky wondered. _What ain't he telling me? _Then it dawned on him. Hutch was too embarrassed to admit the reason behind being sick.

"Just give me an hour or so and I'll be ready for the barbecue," Hutch said. "The tea's good. I feel better already. I'll have a shower and change clothes and then we can leave."

"Hutch I don't mind staying here. We can go next time."

"I'm okay. I really want to go."

"Are you sure?" Starsky asked, still troubled by guilt.

"I'm sure." Hutch replied.

"You don' need to be a martyr, Hutch. If you're sick, just stay home." Starsky didn't want the other man to be uncomfortable and sick over a freaking performance at a barbecue.

"Starsky, I'm okay. Now let it rest will you?" Hutch demanded.

Holding out his hands in surrender, Starsky backed off. There was no arguing with Hutch in this determined mood but Starsky decided to watch him closely and if there were any signs of illness he'd bring him home at once.

ooo

Starsky bounced with excitement as he exited the Torino in the area of Westside Park designated for police officers' vehicles. "C'mon Hutch, what's keeping ya?"

Hutch still didn't quite know how he'd ended up here, with guitar, and about to sing. There had been no way of getting out of it, and anyway he wasn't going to let that stage fright induced sickness stop him. He hadn't admitted to Starsky the reason he had been throwing up, not wanting to make him feel guilty over it. He would never disappoint his partner who had been so excited about Hutch's decision to perform some songs that he had come out of those unhappy memories of his father's murder because of it.

Starsky had informed everyone who would listen to him about Hutch's voice. Many of their colleagues had told Hutch they were looking forward to hear him. He dreaded singing in public. He had no problems with one or two people listening but an audience of cops, their spouses, parents, siblings and children? Forcing himself out of the car, he slung his guitar over his back and slumped while Starsky locked the door.

"It's gonna be great, Hutch," Starsky reassured him. "Hey I can smell the food from here. Come on!"

His partner led the way and Hutch followed in silence and a tension that increased as they drew nearer an open area where tables were laden with all kinds of food and drink. Hundreds of people milled around and Hutch swallowed hard in a suddenly dry throat.

A brass band was playing and as they hit a wrong note, Hutch winced. He had never much liked that kind of music but he did empathise with other musicians who got it wrong.

The sun blazed in the sky but the heat wasn't the only reason Hutch began to sweat. Fear, nerves, the smell of the food, caused his stomach to churn and his head to pound and he wondered if he could make some kind of excuse – any excuse – to get out of here. He didn't want to throw up again; he'd done enough of that this morning so pulled at his top shirt buttons, opening a couple, in the hope of cooling himself down a little but to no avail. He wiped at the perspiration on his upper lip and steeled himself to approach the table where Starsky had already started on the food.

He envied his partner, the denim cut-offs and thin blue T-shirt he was wearing. Why had he put on these heavy brown cords and this plaid shirt that wanted to strangle him? He should have known better.

"Hey, have a drink." Starsky held out a glass of lemonade.

Gratefully Hutch accepted it, and drank it down. It eased his parched throat somewhat and he breathed a sigh of relief as his stomach settled. He refused the offer of food as he knew he wouldn't be able to face it and noticed that Starsky was watching him.

"You okay, buddy?" he asked.

Hutch shrugged. "Nervous, I guess."

"You ain't got nothing to be nervous about, Hutch," Starsky protested. "You'll be fine. You sound great in those songs you practised. I'll be there cheering you on."

That he knew. His friend's enthusiasm for a voice that Hutch himself thought of as less than average warmed him more that he could say. "Thanks, buddy," he said.

"I see you two aren't wasting any time," a familiar voice intruded.

Hutch spun round to see Captain Dobey, along with a woman and two children, standing there. He knew the captain was married with a family but this was the first time he had seen them.

"Food's there to be eaten, Captain." Starsky said with a grin.

Dobey smiled. "Starsky, Hutchinson, this is my wife, Edith, and my children, Cal and Rosie."

"Mrs Dobey, I'm Hutch." Hutch held out his hand to the pretty woman who was his Captain's wife and she took it in a gentle shake. He grinned and nodded at the gangling boy who stood by his father and the cute little girl who hung onto her mother's skirt with one hand and held a doll in the other.

Starsky, being Starsky, was less formal. He took Edith's hand but also leaned over to kiss her cheek, much to the woman's obvious surprise then pleasure. "Happy to meet you, Mrs Dobey," he said, stepping back.

Edith Dobey smiled at Starsky. "I've heard a lot about you and your partner."

As he watched Starsky go into the 'charm' mode he reserved for the female of the species, Hutch wondered just what the captain had told his wife.

"Only good, of course. Captain Dobey thinks a lot of us," Starsky said with a grin.

"Yes," Dobey commented with a grimace. "I think of you a lot!"

Starsky leaned down to shake the boy's hand saying, "Hi Cal, are you gonna be a cop like your dad?"

Cal grinned. "I want to play basketball."

"Hutch and I shoot baskets sometimes. You can join us one time if you like."

"Gee that'd be great!" the boy replied, his face lighting up in an enormous grin.

Starsky crouched on the ground in front of the little girl. "Hello Rosie and how old are you?"

She smiled shyly, looked up at her mother, and on getting a nod, returned her attention to Starsky. "I'm two," she lisped.

"You're two! Wow! That's great. What's your doll's name?"

"Annie," she replied.

"Annie! That's a pretty name, just like Rosie is."

Hutch watched his partner in amusement. Starsky was at ease in any situation with any age group. That was something he envied him for. He glanced at the parents, seeing their indulgent smiles as they watched the scene. _Captain Dobey, you old softie_, he thought.

As if realising he was being watched, Dobey harrumphed and looked away.

"I hear you're singing for us, " Edith said.

"Uh, yes ma'am I uh, am."

"I look forward to it. Have you sung in public before?"

Hutch shook his head and deciding he needed to change the subject, remarked, "I see Starsky finally found someone his own age to talk to."

Starsky looked up as the Dobeys laughed. "Very funny, Hutch." He smiled at the little girl and then stood. "Mrs Dobey, would you like some lemonade?"

"Why thank you Detective Starsky."

"Dave, please." Starsky poured her a glass and handed it to her. "So tell us, how do you cope with the Captain? Is he a real tyrant at home like he is at work?"

"Starsky!" Dobey warned

Starsky laughed. "Kidding."

Edith chuckled. "I bet he can be a tough boss."

"He sure can," Hutch commented. "But he's fair."

"Except when he's riding' me about my hair," Starsky protested. "Mrs Dobey, d'you think it's too long?" He looked at her with a wide-eyed stare, then treated her to his most charming smile.

She returned the smile as she studied him. "I think it's very nice. Is it naturally curly?"

"Yes, ma'am it is."

Dobey looked up at the sky and shook his head a little.

"I must admit I don't normally like men with long hair, but yours isn't too long is it? "

Starsky preened with delight. "I don't think so," then leaned closer and continued in a stage whisper, "Can you have a word in his ear about layin' offa me about it?"

She nodded. "Of course, David. May I call you, David?"

"I'd be honored, ma'am. And Hutch's first name is Ken."

Dobey groaned and indicated that Hutch walk with him and Cal. "I think your partner's flirting with my wife!"

Hutch grinned. "Starsky flirts with every woman he meets, Captain. I don't think he even realises he's doing it."

"Yes, I've noticed. Hutch, I wanted to say that I think you both did the best you could on what is a very difficult case. I know you didn't get the result you wanted but when it comes to the mob that isn't uncommon. The Feds will get him one day if we don't do it first. Is Starsky okay? I know this case upset him."

Hutch stopped and looked at Dobey, realising that the captain would know all about Starsky's past. The details would be in his file. "He's not let it go, sir. He just hides it well."

"Yes, I thought that might be it." Dobey glanced back to where Edith and Starsky were chatting as if they'd known one another for years. "I think I've lost my wife to another man."

Hutch laughed. "I doubt it, Captain, but he sure knows how to lay on the charm."

"Ken, " a female voice called. "When're you going to sing for us?"

Hutch looked around to see the dispatcher, Mildred, coming towards him. He sighed as he replied, "Uh later." He did his best to be vague about song choices and when he was singing until she stopped asking and moved away to get some food.

"Are you nervous, Hutch?" Dobey asked.

Hutch swallowed. Was he that obvious? "Um, yes I am. I don't know how I got into it." He stole a glance at the makeshift stage where the brass band played.

"Listen if you don't want to do it…"

Hutch held up a hand. He had promised Starsky and he was not going to renege on that however much stage fright was paralysing him. "Once I start, I'll be okay." _I hope_, he added silently.

As Dobey returned to his wife, more people stopped to talk with Hutch, all of them saying how they wanted to hear him for Starsky had been praising him to the skies. Hutch began to worry in earnest. What if he messed up? What if he disappointed everyone? His voice could crack. He could go off key. He could strike the wrong chord on his guitar.

"Hey," a familiar voice intruded and a warm hand pressed his shoulder. "You got that line between your eyebrows again. Stop worrying. You'll be fine."

Hutch looked into his friend's face. "I can't help it, Starsk. I'm scared shitless!" he admitted.

An arm went round his back. "Now listen here, Hutch. You sang for me last night and you sounded real good. Just imagine we're in your apartment and there's no-one else there."

Hutch took strength from the other man's belief in him and nodded. "Okay, I'll try."

"That's my buddy," Starsky said, and pulled Hutch towards him into a one-armed hug.

Hutch relaxed into the other's hold, grateful as soothing warmth chased away his nerves, and soaked up his friend's confidence in him until he began to believe that, perhaps, he might just get through this.

"Well, well," a mocking voice brought him out of his tranquil state.

He looked over to see his former temporary partner, Morton, in front of him. "You got something to say?" he asked.

Morton sneered. "You two fags can't keep your hands to yourselves."

Starsky bristled but settled as Hutch lifted his left arm and leaned against his partner's shoulder, saying, "Morton, did you know that envy is one of the seven deadly sins?"

As the man glared at a loss for words and walked away, Hutch recalled how horrendous it had been partnered with him, last year, while Starsky recovered from a gunshot wound. Morton had been the worst possible partner for him with that superior and bigoted attitude. When things had flared up between them, Hutch could recall the white anger searing him as he had rammed the man up against a wall and almost choked him.

"Hey, it's okay. The man's a jerk. Ignore him."

Hutch looked at his partner. "Yeah, you're right. I just got a flash of something that happened last year."

Starsky didn't reply but Hutch knew that his friend understood what he was talking about. The connection they shared was one of the strangest aspects of their partnership but it had rapidly become one of the most essential. Their teamwork, on the job, was remarkable and everyone commented on how in synch they were with one another. It stretched though to their personal relationship where Starsky could spin his emotions with just a word or a glance. It worked both ways though and Hutch knew that this power they had over one another was a great trust.

ooo

Starsky knew where Hutch's thoughts were leading and he pressed his partner's shoulder, telling him that he understood. Hutch grinned and shook his head slightly as if to say that it still amazed him how in tune they were. It still shocked Starsky at times that he and Hutch were so compatible. Most people saw them as opposites and they were, to a degree, but where it counted they were both on the same page.

As the brass band finished their latest tune and the leader, Officer Denham, said that they were taking a break, Starsky felt Hutch tense. _Mushbrain_, he said silently as he squeezed his partners shoulder. _You're gonna be great_!

Hutch swallowed hard and looked at Starsky, fear in his eyes. "I c…c..can't…"

"Sure you can. I'll be right there." Starsky couldn't understand Hutch's lack of confidence in his singing ability. His friend was normally so calm and able to deal with most anything.

"B..b..but what if I make a fool of myself! I'll never live it down!"

Starsky pulled Hutch around and held him by the shoulders. "I have faith in you, buddy. You can do it. Now get your ass up there and show everyone how good you are."

"And now, everyone, we have a special performance for you," Denham announced.

"Oh shit!" Hutch murmured, looking ready to bolt.

"Hutch," Starsky demanded. "Look at me." Hutch eyes locked with his. "You have a great voice. So go and sing. For me. Please?" Emotional blackmail normally worked on Hutch, but he did feel a pang of remorse at using it.

"Detective Ken Hutchinson is going to sing for us," Denham continued, then started to applaud. "Ken, are you ready?"

Hutch stared at him for several long seconds then said, "I can do this."

"That's it, Blondie. Go slay 'em." Starsky tightened his grip on the tense shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, Hutch stood back and then made his way over to the stage. Starsky followed and settled himself nearby where he could get a good view and where his partner could see him.

An interested group of their colleagues moved close by, including the Dobey family, but Starsky didn't take his attention away from Hutch, trying to give support as the blond tuned his guitar and generally tried to waste as much time as possible.

Finally acknowledging Starsky's eyes on him, Hutch sent a small smile his way, then spoke hesitantly into the mike. "I hope you like this song."

After a few seconds, Hutch started strumming the guitar then nervously launched into one of his favorite Jim Croce songs. Starsky hadn't realised that he'd been holding his breath, until a sudden pain made him gasp. He almost laughed at himself. Hutch was an adult not a child at a school concert! After a slightly shaky start he now seemed to be into it.

When the song ended, Starsky applauded enthusiastically, looking around to make sure everyone else did too. If not he encouraged them by look and gesture to do so. On the stage, Hutch was flushed now and Starsky could tell that it was caused in part by embarrassment, and in part by pleasure. After a glance at Starsky, Hutch played an instantly recognisable intro. 'You've got a Friend' was one of their favorites written by Carole King and a hit by James Taylor. The words meant a lot to them, summing up the friendship they shared.

Starsky swallowed the lump in his throat for he knew Hutch was always there for him as his best friend, closer than a brother. He grinned up at his partner, caught his eye, and sent him a silent message. _You're doin' great_.

Hutch smiled, relaxed, his voice strengthened and Starsky beamed with pride. He glanced around the audience, seeing their positive response to his partner's singing. He was delighted, and glad he had encouraged Hutch into doing this. On the surface, Hutch appeared confident but he had many insecurities, one of which had now, hopefully been laid to rest.

A tap on his leg surprised him and he looked down to see Rosie Dobey standing there lifting her arms up to him. He did a double take, looked at Edith who stood nearby and seeing her nod of approval, he bent down to lift the little girl up.

"Can you see better now, Rosie?" he asked as he settled her in the crook of his arm.

She giggled, put her arms around his neck and leaned against him, staring at Hutch in fascination.

"He's real good isn't he?" Starsky asked her. "He's my best friend."

"Will you be my friend?" she asked, turning her big dark eyes on him.

Starsky grinned at the cute little girl and replied, "Sure. Howzabout I be your Uncle Dave."

"Okay. She giggled again and returned her attention to Hutch.

Starsky felt better than he'd done in weeks. It was a beautiful day, there was a great atmosphere here, Hutch was singing, his stage fright forgotten, and somehow he had acquired an honorary niece. He tried not to think about the mob hit and how it had resurrected old hurts. He had to focus on the present for his life was good. He was in a job he loved and with a partner who was his best friend in the whole world.

He cheered when Hutch finished and to his delight the crowd were equally as enthusiastic; well almost. A flushed and exhilarated Hutch made his way towards Starsky, reaching out to pull him into a sideways hug.

"I'm real proud. You were great, Hutch," Starsky replied, returning it. "Hey meet my new niece." With a wink he indicated the child on his other arm.

Hutch smiled at Rosie. "Poor kid," he said under his breath.

Starsky heard that and pinched Hutch hard on the butt.

"Ow!" Hutch exclaimed, jumping away. "Starsky!" he exclaimed in shock.

"Uncle Dave, want ice cream," Rosie announced in a loud voice, tugging at his hair.

Laughter seemed to be all around him and Starsky turned to see the Dobeys and some of his colleagues watching them with great amusement. "I think you better ask your mama," he told the child, handing her back to Edith.

The little girl threw a tantrum the likes Starsky had never seen before and beating a hasty retreat with Hutch they escaped to the food tables. Hutch now seemed able to eat and Starsky knew his suspicions about the stage fright had proved accurate.

"Well Hutch, ya did it and you were terrific," he said.

"He was," a feminine voice intruded. Starsky turned to see Maddie Sherman, a records clerk he'd had his eye on for weeks, along with another attractive woman. "This is my sister Anne," she added.

This day was getting better and better. Starsky shared a knowing look with Hutch then they each settled into flirting mode with a sister.

Ooo

Captain Dobey watched his two young detectives with a fondness he tried to hide. Edith, holding a now happy ice cream eating child, followed his gaze.

"Hearing about them isn't the same as meeting them, Harold," she said. "They're just charming. Did you see how Rosie took to David? I've never seen her act like that with anyone not in the family."

"They're good police officers, Edith, but I worry about them. They're so young and so passionate about the job. Was I ever like that?

"Yes dear, you were. Maybe that's why you care about them. That and their relationship is so like the one you and Elmo had."

He had never spoken to her about that but Edith was wise and she knew him too well. Dobey looked after the interests of all the men under his command but the soft spot he had for these two was something he had never experienced before. He didn't know when he had come to think of them as 'his' boys. As a police captain, he should remain detached but he couldn't turn his feelings off where those two were concerned. What would the future bring for the team of Starsky and Hutch? Gut feeling told him they would make many more enemies than they had already done but Dobey would support them and protect them, if he had to, against anything or anyone who tried to bring them down.

With that thought, he placed an arm about his wife and he and his family began to mingle with the crowd.

The end


End file.
